


Caught Unprepared

by poesparakeet



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Dom!John, Embarassment, M/M, Teasing, Tickling, escape artist, hog tied, sub!Sherlock, teasing!john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2613854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poesparakeet/pseuds/poesparakeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is caught unprepared and unfortunately helpless when John decides to have some fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught Unprepared

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift for ineedmydoctor on tumblr. 
> 
> You can reach me via tumblr for chatting, prompts, praise at www.poesparakeet.tumblr.com
> 
> Update: I've started writing original tickling fiction. That blog can be found at   
> www.prudence-please-tickle.tumblr.com  
> I published my first ebook recently, and I'm pretty proud! There's a link on the sidebar of the porn blog I just mentioned.

“Thirteen Minutes.” John watched Sherlock from his chair in the living room of 221B, tea in one hand and stopwatch in the other. The detective only huffed in response, then grunted as his limbs strained against his restraints. “Sherlock, do you want me to untie you?”

“No.” The detective groaned. “This is admittedly taking me slightly longer than anticipated, but the experiment is not over. I can get out.” He was laying on his belly at the center of their worn carpet, hog tied in the exact manner that the suspect in Lestrade’s latest offering had been. The suspect had been an escape artist, something Sherlock had deduced based on his ill-fitting clothes and the (supposedly) unusual way that he flexed his shoulders. Sherlock had blown the case open to reveal that Mr. Myers had in fact been tied up, escaped, killed his business partner, then tied himself back up again in order to trick the police into eliminating him as a suspect.

Needless to say the odd talent had sparked the detective’s interest. After a week of caseless boredom, Sherlock had announced his intention to experiment with restraints because ‘it might be relevant to future cases’. John, who had been dealing with a lover who was behaving more like a destructive pet with graduate science degrees than a grown man had agreed in an effort to placate him. At the moment he wished he’d thought to gag him.

“It… appears… there may be a slight difference in build and body structure that is… making this a bit more difficult for me than it would have been for Myers.

“Do you mean the fact that he was a foot shorter, the fact that his legs accounted for LESS than eighty percent of his body mass, or the fact that he was a trained contortionist?” John took a long sip of his tea while the detective craned his head to give him a glare. “Fourteen minutes.” Admittedly he had been fairly impressed with Sherlock’s ability to hogtie himself. Though, Sherlock had never had any difficulty getting himself into trouble. The fact that he was now a quarter of an hour into a thus far unsuccessful escape attempt from his own clutches seemed to be a solid allegory for the detective’s life as a whole.

Sherlock huffed again, relaxing in the restraints. John couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw that the other man was starting to get a bit of rug burn on his chin from wiggling around with his hands behind his back. John shifted as he watched the detective struggle, arse flexing and shoulder muscles bunching. John had never fully shared his proclivity for bondage with Sherlock, mostly because his lover didn’t need more ammunition in his ‘seduce John at inopportune times’ drawer. He’d already figured out that slipping his safeword into casual conversation (bandit, established because John was, Sherlock insisted, the worst tease in at least four continents) was a sure way to get himself fucked.

Sherlock turned his head to the side to look at John thoughtfully, cheek smooshed against the rug. “I may need to retry this experiment at a later date with more preparation.”

John laughed at him and clicked the button on the stopwatch. “Giving up then?”

“Not giving up. Merely… regrouping.”

“Hmm.” John strolled over to the pajama clad detective, mussing his already bed-headed hair playfully and earning himself a look. “Don’t pout. I’ll have you untied in a minute. Grump.” He started to untie him, quite the process because Sherlock had done up the knots so tightly, but stopped when the detective jerked and wiggled for the third time. “Sherlock you need to hold still.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Your jumper is itching.”

John looked down. In the process of trying to untie Sherlock’s knots he’d hugged the detectives feet to his chest. The detective wriggled his toes pointedly, jabbing John in the chest and making himself shiver all at once.

“Sorry love.” John laughed, before bending down to plant a playful, chaste kiss on the offending toes.

“JOHN!”

The detective’s shriek was so startling that the doctor jumped. Sherlock thrashed, rolling onto his side while John watched him, gaping. “What?”

The other man’s color was high, and this time it wasn’t rug burn. Stroppy and otherwise flustered, Sherlock watched John with round eyes. “Don’t.”

A slow smile spread across the doctor’s face. “Sherlock—”

“John—”

“Are you..?”

“NO.”

John’s grin spread, his expression downright predatory. “I think you are.”

“John don’t or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” John cut him off. “Because I happen to know you can’t do a thing to stop me… can you?” John reached out and playfully ran a pair or fingers along the detective’s lower belly, exposed by his earlier escape attempt having made his shirt ride up high near his nipples. The other man wiggled.

“John Hamish Watson!”

John just laughed. “Who are you now, my mum? You’ll excuse me if I’m not shaking, considering you’re quite helpless.” The full body shudder and the wildly dilated pupils at the observation were certainly interesting, and bolstered John’s resolve.

Aroused or not, the detective pursed his lips and started scolding for all he was worth. “This is VERY childish, John and—” The detective’s voice devolved rapidly into a squeak when John placed his fingers back on his belly.

“Is it now?” He started walking his finger’s around Sherlock’s navel. “Round and round the garden like a teddy bear—”

“—John!—” Sherlock has his eyes shut tight.

“One step—” John walked his fingers higher.

“Argh!”

“Two step—” At the diaphragm.

“Johohn!” Sherlock’s voice was a quaking whimper.

“Tickle you under there!” John wrapped wriggling fingers around the detective’s ribs with relish. He immediately started to laugh and thrash, but he had no way to protect himself. Hog tied as he was, any movement only extended his body further, ribcage jutting exquisitely and giving John’s wicked fingers access to further recesses of stretched and sensitive skin.

“Johohohn! Pleheeheehease!” Was all the detective managed to get out before falling into hysterics.

“Oh dear.” John soothed. “Begging already? This must be terrible for you.” The other man turned away, trying to hide his flushed face in the carpet. “Are you hiding? Is the great detective hiding because he’s too ticklish?” Tears started leaking from his lover’s eyes, so he let up.

“Dahahamn you.” Sherlock’s laughter was still dying down, and he was already cussing John out. “You ahahawful bahastard!”

John sat back on his heels, examining the detective, still bound and helpless on the rug. His hair was hopelessly messed, curls going every which way and obscuring his face. Once his lover calmed down, John gave him about twenty seconds to breath and an opportunity to say his out. Satisfied, he grabbed Sherlock’s ankles and rolled him back onto his stomach.

“So.” John began. “Now that we have fully established that you’re entirely unable to stop me from doing whatever I like with you, let’s talk about the body parts in the food fridge. Again.”


End file.
